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[u][b]January 1st, 9:15 AM
Clio's Apartment, New York City.[/b][/u]
[hr]

Today was going to be a great day. At least, Clio tried to convince herself of this as she dug herself out from under the covers. It was a lengthy process, one she had perfected. If she didn't have this system, she was certain she wouldn't get out of bed at all. Beginning with her head, she shimmied the comforter down a notch until she was ripped from her state of stuffy ease. Her torso was soon exposed. Then her legs. Finally, she kicked the sheet off of her toes and groaned, her body exposed to the cool air. She rolled towards the edge of the bed, teetered momentarily, then fell off. The shock of colliding with the carpeted floor was enough to get her into motion. Cracking her back and neck, she sat up. Her head throbbed. When the force of her will wasn't enough to subside it, her hand shot up, digging into the bedside cabinet for a bottle of Advil. Popping two pills into her mouth, she swallowed them dry. The relief wasn't instant, but she felt better nonetheless. 

Using the cabinet as a handhold, she lifted herself to her feet. A braid flew into her face, and she flicked it away with a huff. She'd forgotten to put them in a scarf last night, again. They were likely unruly. The thought of redoing them made her headache expand, so, ignoring the bathroom, she shuffled to the kitchen instead. 

Opening her fridge, she stared blankly at the contents. Nothing looked good, but she had to eat before she took her medication. How many times had she gone over this with her psychiatrist? Too many. Gripping the milk, she slammed it down on the counter. A bowl, and some cereal out of the cupboard, and she had a meal. She took a whiff of the liquid, then a swig after she determined it was still good. Pouring her cereal with one hand, she doused it in milk with the other. Grabbing a spoon, she left the kitchen and strode towards her desk. 

It was time. Another day, another dollar. 

Sitting in her swivel chair, she cracked her knuckles and typed in her passcode. The desktop wasn't anything special, but it was hers. Opening up one of her tax return documents, she began typing. Her eyes scanned over the document thoroughly. This was one of the things she was good at. Despite her trouble remembering her clients' names, she was always efficient in managing their taxes and consulting with them. Luckily, today she had no consults scheduled. It was technically her day off, but since she worked from home she rarely ever utilized it. After all, her work made her...satisfied. Not necessarily happy, but not upset by any means. 

Once she was finished, she saved the document and leaned back in her chair. Not much else to do. She closed her eyes, hoping she could drift off peacefully. Five minutes into this, and she was beginning to feel antsy. That was when she felt it, the itch. 

It came in waves, and though she tried to battle it off, most of the time it won out. She scowled, adjusting in her chair and trying to keep her eyes closed against the sensation. It grew in strength, starting at her temple then rushing into her fingertips. She twitched, eyes shooting open. She scratched at the pads of her fingers, but it did nothing. She needed her fix. 

Stretching out her digits, she began to summon things. Random items that she had drawn her rune on. Her house keys, her dolls. It tempered it, her mind feeling renewed. The prickling subsided. She was filled with a burst of energy, but it depleted so rapidly. When it was gone, she was left with nothing but the itching. It surrounded her body, encasing her. She let out a frustrated yelp, pushing up and out of her chair. She knew what her body wanted, it was better if she just succumbed. So much simpler. 

She considered it. At the end of the day, she'd be back at home, feeling so much worse than she had before. But...for a moment, she would feel like she was on top of the world. She could elongate that moment, perhaps. Utilizing her magic felt amazing, it felt empowering. Was it worth it? 

[i][color=EF1956]Yes.[/color][/i] A part of her screamed. She gave into it. 

She summoned her outfit, slipping into the soft, mesh material with ease. She summoned the shadows from the dark corners of her apartment, the power at her fingertips feeling euphoric. She knew the longer she allowed this, the further she'd sink. At that moment, she wasn't sure if she cared. 

Fleeing her building through the fire escape, she began her hunt. Villainous beings were her prey. Today was going to be a great day.